Several months ago there was a Facebook post going around where you were supposed to make up a completely fictional story of how you met a friend. My friend's and I had a ton of fun with our fake stories and they were almost an exercise in "five minute" writing (the kind where you're given a subject and five minutes to write as much as you can about it.)
Without further adieu, for your reading enjoyment:
How I Met Marc
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away there was a small planet called Sporgia. On the equator, near the Pelvienne Inlet lay the Kingdom of Rougburnne.
The princess of Rougburnne, the horrific Janet, was a tyrant of the worst kind. Her humble servants slaved all day to fill her every whim while the good people of Rougburnne, were forced by cruel taskmasters to mine germantium.
One day, a tall roguish man calling himself Marc stumbled into Rougburnne. When it was discovered he came from a mysterious planet called Earth, Princess Janet sought to lure him into a coalition. Together, Earth and Sporgia would pool their resources against the nearby planet, Splunk.
Splunk, was a peaceful planet and had been withstanding attacks from Rougburrne for years. Overtime, the great and mighty Sarah, ruler of Splunk, decided she was sick and tired of Janet's behavior. From the opposite side of the planet, Sarah had been swiftly removing the germantium from the planets core. The supply of germantium was now so low that Princess Janet would surely notice within a few short weeks.
About the time Marc stumbled into the scene, Sarah had begun secretly helping the citizens of Rougburnne off the planet, as she intended to destroy it.
Now the real reason Marc was on planet Sporgia was because he had gotten off track. He was an astronaut tasked with interstellar preservation. Yes folks, he was an galactic sanitation engineer. He had ended up on Sporgia by mistake when he warped to the wrong coordinates. His natural curiosity then got the best of him and of course, he explored the planet and did what he did best, got into a pickle.
Marc was in the royal breakfast chamber with Princess Janet being served green eggs and ham when her trusted advisor rushed in and informed her of the mutiny and the planet’s impending destruction. Being totally into self-preservation, Marc grabbed the hand of the pretty servant and rushed with her to his space ship. Together they blasted off the planet just as it caved in on itself becoming a black hole.
And that's how I ended up on earth with Marc.
Oh wow! I remember this. I think I'll have to dig mine out and post them. LOL. Such a great story, Babe. Take that *evil* Janet. :)
ReplyDeleteHow I met Fat Duck
ReplyDeleteI was hiking alongside a series of hills and low mountains in Southeast New Hampshire. I'd been away from home for almost four days and was looking forward to my pick up spot with my wife in Rochester, New Hampshire. As near as I could tell, I'd arrive there in about eight hours as long as I stayed on the valley trail and didn't take any detours to explore the higher views.
I was walking along an obviously seldom-used trail that ran parallel to a fairly rapid river. I couldn't have pulled off my pack and checked the map for the name, but with the sun high to my left, I knew I was heading in the right direction.
Up ahead I could see a rusty railroad bridge crossing the water to my left. From the look of the aging structure, it had been a long time since anything but wildlife and maybe foot traffic had crossed the narrow river that way.
I continued on through an overgrown field with the swell of a mountain off to my right. If memory served, it was called Stemson Peak or something like that. I crossed a pair of abandoned railroad tracks that seemed to run from the bridge directly into a cliff face off to my right. I couldn't see any entrance but suspected it might have been an old mine entrance.
The trail turned into what looked to be a logging road following along the eastern side of the mountain with an obvious rise. I paused and glanced back at the railroad tracks. Maybe I would have been better off to go that way and walk along the streets of the small neighborhood I could see just across the water.
Deciding I didn't want to spend my last few hours in civilization, I opted for the inclining logging road. As the hike grew steeper, I started to question my decision. My wife wasn't going to be happy if I made her wait in the middle of Rochester for hours on end.
Telling myself it would only be another few minutes, I kept walking until a steep cliff wall rose up to my right. The road kept going but seemed to be getting ever steeper. Knowing it was time to turn around, I stopped and leaned against a boulder the size of a car...and heard a knocking sound.
Looking in every direction, I tried to determine what I was hearing. I'd heard plenty of woodpeckers and this wasn't that. It sounded exactly like someone knocking on a front door.
I finally determined the noise was coming from the cliff. Knowing I didn't have time, but determined to find out what was making that sound, I weaved my way between spindly evergreens and more of the large boulders until I came to the cliff. I could still hear that knocking sound off to my right.
Committed to finding out what it was, I readjusted my pack and followed along the base of the cliff. As the sound got closer, I grew more convinced it wasn't been caused by any woodpecker, so when a small wooden door mounted at the base of the cliff came into view, I was both relieved I wasn't crazy but confused as to why it was there.
Knock, knock, knock.
How I met Fat Duck...Part II
ReplyDeleteSuddenly, I wondered if there were bears in this part of New Hampshire. Probably, I imagined. I'd heard of bears being seen within fifty miles of my own home in Maine, so why not New Hampshire.
Knock, knock, knock.
I crept up to the door made from wooden slats with an old iron knob. It looked to be quite old, maybe fifty years or more. Bears would make a scratching sound, wouldn't they? I placed my hand against the outside of the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Hello," I said. "Who's in there?"
Silence.
Knowing that I had to retrace my steps if I wanted to meet my wife in time, I paused there with my hand still pressing against the cool wood.
Now or never, I told myself.
Ever-so-slowly, my hand slid downward until it gripped the knob. Maybe it was locked or stuck. A fleeting sense of relief crossed my mind as I thought of just getting myself out of there.
But what if it was someone in trouble. Suddenly, my stomach felt queasy. I got ready to turn the knob...then at the last second stopped, reached down to grab a good-sized rock and grabbed the knob again.
"'Don't be a mountain lion," I whispered.
I turned the knob, yanked the door open and found myself staring at a solid stone face. There was no opening behind the door, only solid rock?
I was getting ready to look behind the door, as though a cave opening might have moved but suddenly caught a peripheral view of movement at my feet.
Looking down, I saw the most disgusting and unlikely creature you could imagine. Cover in some kind of green slime that reminded me nothing so much as wet snot, stood a heavyset bird. It shook itself and splattered a good bit of the green slime on my pant legs.
"Quack." It cocked its head sideways and looked up at me with one dark eye. "Quack, quack."
I turned out to be almost three hours late meeting my wife because "Fat Duck" wouldn't allow me to pick him up but insisted on following me back to civilization.
He lives in a pen on my porch now.
(Stemson Mountain and nostrils slime are taken from my novel "Zachary Pill, The Dragon at Station End. Fat Duck really does live on my porch but he came from a Maine log cabin surrounded by several hundred ducks :-)
That was awesome, Tim! I love that you picked up a rock before opening the door. I would've been prepared to turn and run! lol Thank you for sharing. :D
ReplyDeleteKK, that was one serious interstellar love story. Sort of a cross between "Star Wars" and "Speed" :-)
ReplyDeleteThanks Tim...it was suggested I expand on it...I might someday. :)
ReplyDeleteThat was a fun post and an awesome idea. I'm going to suggest it as an exercise to my critique group.
ReplyDelete